Untouched
by newportz-princess
Summary: In order to help her families money issues, Marissa gets a job as a stripper. Ryan Atwood, while dragged along to her ‘work’ for a bachelor party sparks up a conversation with this sarcastic beauty. An amusing AU RM one shot. One-off, still on hiatus. R


**Disclaimer: The O.C. belongs to Josh Schwartz…that isn't me.**

**Summary: An odd one-shot written in Marissa's POV; in order to help her families money issues, Marissa Cooper gets a job as a stripper. Ryan Atwood, while dragged along to her 'work' for a bachelor party sparks up a conversation with this sarcastic beauty. **

**OMFG! Fanfiction…from me!! This is a one off because I'm still on Hiatus. It's totally random, totally silly, and totally hopefully worth your time!! Thanks for reading and I'd deeply appreciate a review!**

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Time seems to have lost its constant tick-tock feeling…if that makes any sense. You know how wherever you are you can almost always hear a clock? Well, somewhere along the lines of my long shifts at _Satisfaction _also known as the "seedy strip joint downtown that is, like, totally ew," by a girl in my class at school. I'm not too sure of her name, something like Sunny? Oh, gosh, that can't be it! Anyway, back onto what I was saying: everything is in slow motion, but moving too fast all at once; it's crazy and scary and completely and utterly confusing…and probably has no logic to it whatsoever to you but I honestly cannot think of a better way to elaborate.

How on earth did I end up working at a strip club? – I assume that is a question you are expecting an answer to, right? Well, you are in luck…but I will get to that in a minute. What my main focus is right now is to bare my soul so you don't automatically think I'm a skank…or if you happen to be a perverted guy: hot piece of ass. Here goes. My name is Marissa Cooper; I am at this moment 15 years old…oh! But do _not _forget about the 2 months and 9 days! It all counts towards being able to leave home. My father is an abusive son-of-a-bitch that spends more time on another woman's mattress than being at home with his struggling wife and my suffering mother, Julie, who is battling post-natal depression after the birth of my younger sibling Kaitlin, who is only 3 months old. My mom is also broke and can't afford life necessities for Kaitlin, herself and me. If you could imagine what it is like shoplifting tampons because your wallet is empty, besides maybe an old, soggy cigarette, then you have no idea what it is really like to have to do that on a monthly basis. So with a nasty father, a helpless mother and a baby sister to contend with, selling myself short and using my luck in the good-genes department to an advantage that would not only generate money for my family, but to-…yeah I guess that's it.

Although I may portray a confident, sexy young woman on stage that would love nothing more than to have sex with each man in the room, the me that has sort of gotten lost inside me somewhere knows that that is far from what I consider decent and proper. I mean, I'm still a virgin, yet I act like a seductress onstage and lead men on to thinking that a little post-performance grope is in order. It disgusts me that people I don't even know, nor people that I love and care about are touching me and caressing me in places that should be sacred to me and my husband…when I get one, which will not be soon, I am guessing.

I got kind of sidetracked and so back to my mini-biography; I attend Harbor, which is an elite private school in Newport Beach, Orange County – which is where I live. In case you are wondering why the hell a lowlifes like me and my family can afford that school is because my dad used to be rich, like, _really_ rich, but he got caught up in drugs and gambling and slowly the money disappeared. We lost our house, our car our savings, but he managed to keep my education. How he did that I was shocked and didn't understand; if we have no money then how the hell can he keep me at Harbor? Easy. Turns out, the dean of discipline is on crack. Random, huh? But hey! I'm not complaining. I get to stay in a familiar environment that I feel comfortable in; like an escape. Since the only other places I go are home and er, work? Like you could call it a legit job!

I have no friends…they all decided I was trash when my dad went broke. Well, well. If they thought – or _think_, I guess – I was trash then, wonder how they would feel about me now.

I was a "queen bee" at Harbor. But that is such a corny name, so lets call it something oddly normal…how about _popular_? When did bees in royal positions replace that title? Queen bee…so I guess there must be a king too, and a joker…okay, sorry, I got distracted in my weird thoughts of royal bumble bees. So, like I was saying, I was _queen bee _(queue to roll eyes) and had a lot of friend but then of course the crap happened, just in time of the arrival of Sunny Roberts or whatever, something like that. She arrived in Newport merely days after the catastrophe and took over my place in the hive (cue to sit awkwardly in a silent manner because that joke of some sorts really sucked).

Yay, I sit alone at lunch. Woo. There is nothing more confidence boosting than sitting alone…on the ground…and two meters away from certain people because they made a lame-ass restraining order…ON PINK PAPER, SPRITZED WITH PERFUME! Um, okay, Elle Woods.

When I'm finished school and College – if I can get in on scholarship – I really aspire to be the 'Employee of the Month' at McDonalds…KIDDING! No, honestly, I'd love to be a Psychiatrist or something in that field. I find others problems fascinating, like, I want to know how and why they are the way they are.

Hey! I didn't get sidetracked, amazing! Hehe. This bio must be getting a tad boring, so I'll make the ending short and sweet…then I have another tale to tell…I want two children; a girl and a boy. The man of my dreams has to be an exact replica of Johnny Depp. But I'll settle for hot, funny, sweet and caring…and he _has_ to know how to drive. Dude, it is a hard life without my own set of wheels. That so sounded like a self-involved teenage boy. I plan to live in New York and achieve as much as I can in my life, to make up for what I am missing out on at the moment. But do not worry! I will not do something like 'live through my daughter' or whatever. That looks fairly frustrating on TV, so yeah…

Enjoy my life? If so then I'm glad one of us does. Now, I said something about another tale to tell, so here it is. But first: you already know who I am, but do you know the other half of this story? Everone does, and if they don't, they _want_ to know who he is. Note how I said he? Well of course you can already tell this will be a sappy love story, right? You're wrong. Romance novels, romantic movies…ugh. To put it lightly…uh, no actually, to put it bluntly: they suck. Love is not like that. It isn't one big 2-hour fluff-fest with minor ups and down and "oh my god, she's marrying someone else!!" when we ALL know he'll turn up at the wedding and kiss her then the screen will go black, and all of a sudden it will be their wedding. Predictable. But that is exactly what love and live is not. I may sound like a broken hearted bitch, but it is the truth and you really can't deny it. Love is something I have not experienced, but it doesn't mean I have no clue about it; it just means I see it as what it is and am not blinded by it, like so many girls my age are.

Whoa. I really have a knack for going way off subject! My mom has always been like that, so that is where I got it from, I guess. Back to the male lead: his name is –

"Ryan Atwood? Mr. Atwood I would appreciate it if you did not fall asleep in my class," mocked a friend of the very male spoken of.

"Shut up, ass hole. It's not my fault he's boring and has no kids of his own to torture," replied Ryan.

"Logic has been uttered," yelled another mate of his.

"Here, here!" The entire group of guys nodded and clanked their diet cokes together, which has small traces of vodka in them. Shh. They think no one knows.

"So, my brothers' bachelor party is going down tonight at _Satisfaction _– you know that strip club," started one of them. When he received intrigue, he continued, "All of you are invited to get dirty, down and drunk tonight, you hear?"

Amongst noises of excitement, came Ryan's distinctive voice saying, "Nah, sorry dude. I've been slacking off in English, so I've got to catch up on the stuff I've missed."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Nope. It is the last semester; don't you think we should at least do _some_ homework?" inquired Ryan, now feeling like a complete nerd. Serves him right for darting his eyes to me on the muddy grass and rolling his eyes back to his perfect reality. Nice, Atwood, real nice.

"Er, no. What are you on man? You are coming and that is it, now shut up and find someone to finish…and start our history papers on one of the wars. I can't remember which one."

"Whatever. I'm gonna go around back and have a smoke, anyone want to join me?" Ryan asked, hoping no one would be keen.

Not one of them seemed remotely interested so he headed towards the grass in order to access the school's out-of-bounds back lot.

Coming past me in the process and knocking over my little milk carton while doing so, I grunted angrily and stood up to follow him. About to argue with him, I clear my throat and search my mind for something rude, but not too rude to say to him. After all, he did destroy any chances of milk entering me…and I love milk, so…

"Excuse-" I begin, then I find that I am stopping myself; he's going to _Satisfaction_ tonight, and I work tonight, so interaction now would definitely count towards a blushing, possibly tears and mockery later on.

Suddenly he turns around and a wham the now deformed milk carton in front of my face. Oooh, good one Marissa; no one can see you now.

"Did you say something?" he asked the reason I'm hiding behind milk.

"No, no, no, no, no…no?" I utter in my best impression of a German accent.

"No?" he teases.

"No," I confirm.

"Okay then…" I de-milk carton my face and see him walking away.

Phew is the best expression in this situation.

Now, enough with school, onto tonight…

From backstage I can see Ryan and his crowd gather in and take a seat on the stools right in front of the stage. If only they knew what amazing view that they would have if they were in, ooh, I dunno…CHICAGO! Great. Now I have increased my nerves by about 80 percent.

"You ready Eva?" asked the man behind me. God bless stage names.

"Um, yeah, I guess I have to be." I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Maybe he won't recognize me? Ugh, like hell he wouldn't; you hid behind milk, you idiot.

"Eva? You're on." He yanks me out of my minds' battles with itself and I strut onto the stage in my little…whatever it's called and avoid eye contact at all costs. The room seems to be spinning and I hope it's a dream, but no. Sadly, _I_ was spinning…around a pole to be precise. I slide down to the bottom of the pole, right where the Ryan and his buddies were sitting and kicked my leg up, which of course inherited cat-calls and various dollar bills shoved down my bra and others slapped onto my skin which is slick with sweat.

Out of the corner of my eye I notice Ryan is getting up from his stool and heading over to the bar (cue sounds of relief).

Finally, my dance has come to an end and I leer off to my changing room. Minutes later, my stripping outfit has been replaced by an old baggy t-shirt and skinny jeans.

Heading to the door in a scurry, I fail to feel my foot slip…and then, as you probably predicted, I was on the ground.

"Are you okay?" came a familiar voice.

"Never been better!" I am the sarcasm-pro. If you didn't know…that totally rhymed, hehe.

"Come over and I'll buy you a drink." I eventually tip my head upwards and see it is in fact Ryan Atwood.

Just my luck, eh?

"No, I'm fine. I should get home…" Yeah, I don't remember saying something after that, just falling over again.

"You are clearly not fine…come on, I won't bite."

"Really? Because I'm pretty sure you're venomous. I know who you are and what you do-"

Him saying the following stopped me short, "You're the milk girl, aren't you? Oh my god, it is really you."

"Taa daa!" I roll my eyes at my attempt to be funny and he simply smiles.

"Ryan Atwood." He takes my hand to shake it.

"I know about Ryan Atwood. Like how you-"

Stopped short again. Prick. Well, this is what he had to say, "-are misunderstood?"

"You just finished my sentence with something that I wasn't going to say. I'll have you know that pisses me off."

"Good."

"What?" My shock amuses him, which annoys me. "What?!" I exclaim again.

"You're cute when you're mad, that's all."

"Uh, thanks?" Confuuuuusssseeddddddd is my current state of mind.

"Now, about that drink?" he asks again.

"Maybe another time…I really do need to get home." Damn Ryan and his damn hotness and his damn persuasion and a whole lot more damns…

"…Damn."

"Pardon?"

Oh crap, did I just say that out loud? Act casual, you dweeb. "What? Oh, nothing."

"This is the part when I say 'okay, your name' but the tricky thing there is, that I don't know your name." He raises his eyebrows at me, waiting for a response.

"Marissa Cooper," I say simply and sweetly. Okay, take out the _sweetly_ part, that's stupid.

"Well, _Marissa Cooper_, when you are indeed in the mood for a drink, you know where to find me." I stopped myself from saying, "No, I really don't know where to find you," just to be…me? But he'd already left the club. His (insert 'damn') cologne is still lingering and I am feeling rather optimistic about life.

A "Yahooooooo!" from a drunken 40-something year old snapped me back to reality. Oh yes. I'm poor and work at a strip club. Pure joy.

Umm…lips are on mine. Oh hello there Ryan. Say it out loud nerd. "Uh hi there…again."

"I just really had to do that."

"Indeed," I nod, dumbfounded.

"So, see ya later," he waves uncomfortably and starts for the door.

"Ryan, wait up!" I call.

"Hmm?"

"I changed my mind. A drink sounds good." Smiles are on both of our faces and we look pathetic. So I guess this story did have a happy ending eh? Yeah…nah! It's not over just yet.

I take a tentative sip of my martini and take a deep breath as Ryan asks me, "Why are you doing this, I mean-"

"My family is having money troubles, I guess it was a quick solution," I shrug and deepen my sip.

"Do you ever…with any of the men?" Aw, I just made Ryan Atwood blush.

"You see, that's the thing; I strip, I get money for it. I act like a whore and lead them on, so of course anyone would assume I practise what I preach, but no. I haven't…not with anyone. Sorry, you didn't need to know that."

"It's fine." Oh jeez, there goes his smile. And now my mouth has a mind of its own, since when did I smile at people like Ryan?

"I don't know if this will make sense, but-"

"Try me."

"Okay, well, I'm touched so much, man handled even. I'm an object that these men seem to think needs to be violated…I don't know, but although this happens, it isn't someone I love and care about doing it so in a way I'm _untouched _you get what I'm saying?" Well-done Marissa. You made no sense and in the process embarrassed yourself.

"I get it." Whoa, genuine and understanding…whoa again, would have thought he had it in him?

I'm surprised by the shrill of his cell phone. He answers it and I can tell already he has to be somewhere else. Ryan is still having his conversation and whilst he is on the phone he lifts his martini glass up off the napkin it rested on and wrote with a pen that randomly appeared on it: _Untouched, eh? I'd like to be the one that changes that_ – and it also had his cell phone number on it, but like I'd share that…

I seem to be smirking as he pushes the napkin over to me and winks with his deliciously blue eyes. I mouth 'bye' and slip out of the strip club.

Okay, so it was a semi-happy ending. You still don't know what happens between us…make that up yourself! My creativeness has been replaced by an excessive need to fall asleep. Hope you enjoyed whatever the hell this was!

Marissa Cooper.

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**Finished.**

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**Random, huh? I was bored…and yeah. I would love a review from you if you read it. It made no sense, so feel free to tell me it was a waste of my time! :D LOL, thanks for reading!**


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